


I'm Not Leaving You Just Yet

by KorrohShipper



Category: The Vanishing of Sidney Hall (2017)
Genre: F/M, The Vanishing of Sidney Hall (2017) - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 21:35:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29339160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KorrohShipper/pseuds/KorrohShipper
Summary: "I just keep replaying that scene. Hoping against hope that the ending would change, that she would just wake up and say, 'Sidney, I'm not leaving you just yet. I'm still pregnant.'"
Relationships: Sidney Hall/Melody Jameson





	I'm Not Leaving You Just Yet

**I.**

* * *

67,680 minutes. 

The watch on his wrist is obnoxiously loud, courtesy of being bought at a heavily discounted rate of $12.50 in some gas station convenience store back when he and Melody were driving all the way to New York to start their life together, that bright idea that seemed to be the start of something good. 

At first, when he saw that half-empty bottle of lighter fluid tossed into a trash bag from one of the camping areas of a park, when he had this idea on how to start his mission to finally become nobody, he thought of books. 

Specifically, he thought of counting down his life through the number of books he found and burned. It doesn't matter where it's from, public libraries or book stores. All that mattered was he needed too burn them, and maybe then, he'd find an inner peace and understanding that will lead him back to the moment he took that red marker and found the biggest piece of cardboard that was lying inside the house. 

To be apt, as Brett called it, grew a dick and pair of balls and finally crossed that street. 

But. he reasoned later after burning his 12th book within that day, it would have been futile. 

His books weren't truly his essence on this earth. Maybe it was the idea, or the belief that he believed in, the understanding he came to embrace with burning the books. It didn't bring him closer to Mel, but it did bring him closer to the person he once was, back when he was 18 and Brett Newport came up to him in the library and asked him for a favor. 

With each book he burned, he thought he could bring himself back to the person he once was. That didn't bring him any closer to Melody, or their family. 

That's why, when he was about to throw that stupid watch, crush it under the heel of his foot, he stopped. He remembered Melody's smile, her cheeks tinting red as she laughed so hard her eyes teared up. Sidney remembers stopping through the aisles of that convenience store on that desolate highway, he remembers how the heat pricked at his skin, but more importantly, he remembered watching her. 

She was probably tearing open a packet of gummy bears—"It's not like I'm not going to pay for it," she says with a knowing glance, her Nikon camera still strapped to her neck—and he remembered just watching her. So high, so intoxicated at feeling of just being in love with her. 

The sound of twigs crackling under the pressure of fire jarred him back to reality, only in time before a loud horn of the trucks from above signaled their pass through the bridge. 

Sleeping under a bridge to spend the night is a fairly new concept to him, so getting himself to fall asleep proved to be hard. It still took some time, his mind wandering off to whatever could capture his attention. 

But tonight is different. The stars are bright, framed in a pine forest, the stars looked almost magical. Bright and unadulterated, the pollution of light and smoke hardly touched the woodland grounds of where he found himself. 

There are times when he wonders, when he could just close his eyes and think back to when everything was right—when he and Mel weren't fighting, when they had a countdown to May 25th of their 30th birthday. Those were also the times when he missed his life. 

He missed his bed, he missed his wife. He missed his life. 

A part of him wanted to turn to his side and see Mel, standing beside him, gazing at the stars like he was earlier. She would have her camera and she would just lose herself in the art. 

Sidney thinks back to that night. What if things turned out differnetly?

What if someone came, or if the ambulance arrived earlier—would they have worked things out? 

Regardless, he thinks of this moment right now as his eyes flutter close: he imagines a family, sometimes a girl, sometimes a boy. Blonde hair, shoulder-length, just barely brushing up against the fabric of their shirt. The child is looking up in fascination before tugging on their mother's arm and takes a picture. 

Sidney smiles at the thought. It feels so perfect like a dream. 

But that's the thing about dreams, they have to end. 

Sidney wakes up to the obnoxiously loud wrist watch and he sighs. Here's to a new day. 


End file.
